


Only One

by goldragon (ledbythreads), Goldragon (thebookhunter)



Category: Jimmy Page - Fandom, Led Zeppelin, Robert Plant - Fandom
Genre: 1985, Ambiguous Relationships, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Backstage, Birmingham NEC, Canon Compliant, GOLDRAGON, He gave me this shirt, Led Zeppelin References, M/M, Mirrorfic, Porn with Feelings, The Firm - Freeform, bandfic, he will never stop loving him, he won't be with me now, jimbert - Freeform, page/plant, post Zeppelin, two beings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-18
Updated: 2020-03-18
Packaged: 2021-02-28 17:22:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23190832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ledbythreads/pseuds/goldragon, https://archiveofourown.org/users/thebookhunter/pseuds/Goldragon
Summary: Saturday night. 18th May 1985. Jimmy is finally touring again in a band that is working for him. Robert is days away from releasing Shaken and Stirred. He's never seen Jimmy from the audience and he just has time before he flies out to the US.Jimmy knew this tour would be different. Not like these little bits of projects and charity gigs. Something real. Playing Birmingham it's not such a surprise he's come. Well, maybe it is. It still makes a difference. Knowing he's listening.
Relationships: Jimmy Page/Robert Plant
Comments: 46
Kudos: 29





	1. prelude

This is a mirrorfic.

Maybe this is a prelude; maybe a coda.

The two chapters are the same but told from a different point of view. One Robert. One Jimmy.

[ **A side** ](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23190832/chapters/55514089#workskin)

[ **B side** ](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23190832/chapters/55516294#workskin)

You choose the order. Then flip it over. Needle in the groove. We're telling you stories. That's all it is - 

but stories matter.

Memory is fickle.

48 hours later <https://youtu.be/hOw7T0uc9yg?t=286>

And another week after that <https://youtu.be/IxkIRyptS6s?t=145>

What did Jimmy think..? well, he never says much in words.

<https://youtu.be/bKOdrvkCTs4?t=1489>

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Goldragon is a writing collaboration between @thebookhunter and @ledbythreads
> 
> 'Robert to my Jimmy - Jimmy to my Robert'
> 
> We work in collaboration, writing works for Led Zeppelin fandom. We use experimental techniques such as writing live into shared documents from joint headcanon as a form of performance.
> 
> Jimmy and Robert are characters - but the setting is real, the dynamics are real, the interviews are real.  
> RPF - real person fiction - is writing about performance. Anything we in fandom can see is our own reaction to stardom. All real. All unreal. Robert is a storyteller - it's up to you to decide what story you want to hear. They deserve all the stories... 
> 
> You are part of this story. You can find us on tumblr as @incredifishface and @ledbythreads. We welcome your comments, voices, ideas, headcanon, questions. Talk to us. Share. Talk to each other here in the comments. Fandom is communal. We are sitting round the campfire in the night learning to be human. 
> 
> We are the ocean. Still. 
> 
> 18th March 2020.


	2. A side

Saturday night. It has that sway to it. That rock and roll to it. But you Jimmy. Tonight you were something else. You were truly excellent. You excited me, teased me, changed me tonight. I’m having a moment. Watching you from your dressing room doorway - taking my fill before you see me. I have never loved you more. 

Memory is fickle. We say if you can remember the seventies you weren’t there. I say I was in bed before eleven. I don’t say it was with you. Is this true? I have so many memories sometimes I can’t carry them, and they spill out on the floor like oranges when the net splits. Like lemons. I just don’t know which memories are real and which are the ones I made up for other people. Is it true I never called you baby? Is it true I never said I love you to your face? 

Watching you tonight I wept. 

My prince. My love. You were majestic, are majestic, you are the resurrection and the light. Green laser light. My dark Albion in white samite. Bow raised. Guitar for a steed. Summoning. Here I am. I never left you. You know that, right? 

Your court is around you and for seven heartbeats they do not see me on the threshold, and I can just behold you. Like so many others do. You are glowing. I could ask you for your autograph. Ask to be chosen.

Towelling your hair. You are wearing some soft grey trousers. A black tour shirt. You make me feel so tender when your clothes are soft. You’re not someone who accepts comfort easily. Your feet are bare, and I can feel the arches of them in my hands. My thumbs against your instep. I remember the taste of your sweat. That flush of triumph from adoration. From 40,000 people. From me. You are talking fast and laughing. High from the spectacle. People all around me were calling out to you tonight – like you were a bullfighter, an opera singer, a magician. I called your name too. Did you hear me baby? Through the sound of the waves. 

I never got to simply watch you. Till tonight. Maybe that isn’t quite true. I watched you at the boathouse spin gold out of thin air. I watched you enchant me. Turn me into someone else. Those few days we had. I loved you from the beginning in those quiet rooms. Empty, and waiting for your music, as I was. But after you opened up the door to the world I was listening for my cues. Watching you for direction. Never just for the pleasure of your grace. I am so proud of you. Jimmylove. I come to pay tribute.

When they see me a hush falls. One by one. A line of sight opens up like the aisle of an old church. Like an estuary when the tide turns, and the water starts to flow again upstream. You look up and smile. Almost blinding. Like you did tonight from centre stage. And you see the worship in my eyes and take it. We speak as though there is no one else in the room. In the world. The distance still between. _‘If love is touching souls surely you touched mine’_ – not from time to time. Always. You loved that song. You played it to me turned down low and kissed me till my lips bled. I don’t know what I’m saying. Underneath I’m singing I want you I want you I want you. You are making me wait. I want you to. Your courtiers feel it and they make their excuses and leave us. Suddenly it is so quiet. I feel like a child and I want to lay my head on your lap, and you can sing me a lullaby. Keeping away from you is exhausting. I’m gonna crawl. No shame baby. No shame. 

“Come. Come here” 

The saggy backstage armchair you are sitting in is like a throne. The towel round your neck is your ermine. You are cloaked in power tonight. I can feel your handprint on my belly under my current skin. My most recent incarnation. I go to you and kneel between your knees. I put my hands between my thighs to stop myself touching you. I want to lick your wrists. I’m tired baby. Claim me. You spread your legs a little wider and my belly hitches. You are still too beautiful for your own good. Dark eyes. Magical fingers. 

“I want to see you. Robert”

Your voice is hushed. You are making your decree.

Cold fire. Ice. Like the time you drew sigils on the soft skin on my inner arms and traced your tongue along the wet lines you had written there. I slowly unbutton my shirt. I see you watch my muscles flex. You make me feel so pretty. I slip it off my shoulders. Let it fall. Watching your eyes. I’m wearing the silver and lapis prayer box necklace you bought me in Marrakesh. In it a slip of paper you left in the pages of my book while I slept. The day you went to find a Jeep we could buy. The one we drove all the way to Rhodes. It says, ‘Wait for me’. I have done. I have. 

We never had one way to do this. We improvised. Listened for what the other had brought. Elaborated. Changed it. Tonight, I hear you so clearly. A single high note. Almost urgent underneath your show of calm. Fealty. You want my oath. You knew I was out there tonight. You showed me so well. Show me now. Your hand. 

“Come here”

Leaning back so I have to lean to reach you. Unbalanced. My hands at either side of you against the dirty fabric of the chair. Leaning between your legs without warmth, without friction. I feel so untouched. You run light fingertips down my sides, across my belly. Through the hairs of my chest. Please baby. I’m already getting vocal, a puppy growl in my throat. You raise your eyebrows. Amused. You cup my jaw in one hand. Your thumbnail is still a tiny dagger. Then. Your three fingers into my mouth. You press my tongue as I suck. You undo your own fly; get yourself harder while I can only taste your fingers. Let me. I want you so much. I know what you need Jimmy. Please. You spit in your own hand and it’s maddening. The drag of your fingers in my mouth. Watching your face as you tease yourself. That flush. My mouth is so wet with wanting you .

Suddenly you wrap your legs behind my thighs and drag me against your crotch. It’s shocking. You are undoing me. You snake your hand down the back of my chinos and your cock is prodding me in the stomach. I would be happy to beg you if you weren’t preventing me from speaking. You kiss the top of my head gently and slide your fingers out, I slide down to take you. Taste you. I am sloppy and too eager in my wanting. I want to be full of you, but I have forgotten the way of it. Hand in my hair you guide me. I want to be good. Tell me baby. Tell me like you once did. Maybe you think my eyes are wet because I’ve caught myself off guard but it’s because I’ve missed you. So much. I remember. My body remembers. I should stop and give you a condom before this goes too far but I can’t stop this feel of your skin against my tongue.

We were lucky. Then. To have been able to be reckless. But I wasn’t reckless to love you. Loving you was the best of me. I’m reaching you now. _Oh Jimmy_. Your stomach muscles are tensing. You are still too thin. The heels of my hands on your hip bones. I feel the bass line in you. I slow and twist and you drop your hands down and rock your hips with me. I drop my left hand down to undo my fly button. Ease down the zip.

“No”

Still softspoken. You are not asking.

“No. Say it”

I take my hand away. Oh god Jimmy. So long.

You pull me back up against you. You find my mouth. I’m swooning. You kiss me deep then pull away.

“Say it”

I find your eyes.

“You. You’re the only one”

You kiss me again. Swallowing my words. I feel you smiling.

I murmur into your mouth.

“You’re my only one. The only one. Jimmylove” 

I grind against you. Your cock wet from my mouth. Your mouth hot and open for me. My cock sliding against yours. Your hands on my ass. Bare skin. Cool hands. You tighten your legs again. Pull me in. I dip to taste the sweat on your neck. You arch into my touch. Your breathing is heavier. I want us to fuck. I want you inside me. The impulse so strong it makes me giddy. You were always braver. So many times you opened up your body to me, and took me home. Sheltered me. Took me in. I want to be good for you baby. I can do that for you too. You know I can. I want to give you everything .

You push me off panting. Your cock twitches. It’s alluring.

“You’re magnificent. Look at you Jimmy. You shook me”

You laugh. I love to see you so happy. I stand and pull you to your feet. Sex is always ridiculous even with you. With trousers soon to be falling to our ankles it’s a good job you got a reputation years ago for disliking intrusions. Nobody wants to see what Jimmy Page is doing behind closed doors. You have made them superstitious. Well well. There are none so blind as will not see. 

Clutching clothing you slow dance shuffle me to the wall. It feels romantic. I feel like Bette Davis saying ‘I never said it would be easy. I only said it would be worth it’. I’m nervous. It’s been a long time and I don’t know. I don’t know if you are well Jimmy. I don’t know how to ask. I scrabble in my pocket. Durex. Astroglide. I feel like a fucking virgin again. Now I’ve got Madonna in my head. ‘You make me feel, all shiny and new’. Oh Jimmy, just fuck me already and get all these words out of my head. Let me hear you. I hold out my treasures. You do a double take and that pout like you get with journalists while you decide whether to be offended. Please baby I am holding out my heart here. But you take them and kiss me again. I hope you use them. I don’t think I can say no to you now.

Slowly, masterfully, you build my body back under your hands. Gently. Sweetly. Inexorably. You rock against me. Swing time. I lift your shirt up and over your head and you brush your hair out of your face with the back of your hand and I feel so helpless. Chest to chest. I missed this. You ease me out of my pants and kick away my little white loafers. I still have your shirt in my hand. I don’t want to let go. But I drop it on the chair so I can hold you. I almost can’t stay hard; knowing what I want you to do scares me. You are patient. You take me apart bit by bit. I help you roll the condom on but then you push my hand away. The wall is cold against my back and I feel the condensation as the room cools round us. The fire between us is hot enough. When you pull my thigh up high on your hip and I coil my arms round the back of your neck I’m trembling.

“Ask me. Robert”

“Touch me. Fuck me… please”

I’m falling. Drifting. This is real. Tonight is real. I’m with you. Opening to you. I love you so much.

“Tell me”

Your voice. Nobody ever made me feel this way. Only you. No poetry moves me more than this simple truth.

“You’re the only one. Only ever you”

Like the fingers in my mouth you push straight into me. Then slowly, softly, rock deeper. It’s easy. Memory is fickle. I was remembering the times you weren’t so good, when I was bad, when sex was just something to get to sleep, months when I was in so much pain, later when you so rarely could and could hardly feel it when we did. When I was scared to fuck you hard in case you broke.

I remember now how well you know me. That you know exactly how my body is tuned. That you taught me how to feel. That it is a privilege, an honour to be loved by you. That I have never trusted anyone more. That you saw me before I saw myself. And you are moving in me, for me, driving me out of my mind; and I’m hard against you and you lean back like you do with a guitar so you can hold me in your hand. You look at me from under your hair and I know that a photograph can never show what I see. You see me, see you, and I’m losing it for you. You make it last. Even though soon a cleaner will come to chuck us out; Just another scandal to sweep into the bin. I want you, so hard. And at last, as you let me come for you, I see something in you slip sideways. You bury yourself in my body; your face in my hair, clinging to me, and I hold you as you finally fall apart too, and let yourself just be. Just mine. Always.

So, I hold you like that, stroking your hair and telling you how wonderful you are. My only one. I mean it. People say I’m just in love with being in love. Because they don’t know I can never stop loving you. Jimmy Page. You know.

You slip out of me at last and remember to do the thing with the condom and I miss your cum sliding down my legs. But times change. Some things are always between us now. Even if they are almost transparent. Thinner than skin. We are a little awkward. Both raw. I pull your shirt on along with my own trousers. Now my love is literally written across my chest and I know that still nobody will see. It’s been a really emotional night. I know it’s over, but I have to ask anyway.

“Jimmylove. Come home eh? With me?”

We can be there in an hour. I could carry you up the stairs. There’s nobody waiting for me there. I want to see you sleeping.

“We can’t”

I don’t ask why. I know you will not come unless we work together properly. That it hurts you too much to have one part and not the other. That to you they are the one thing. You kiss me softly.

“Keep the shirt. Robert”

You think you are funny. You are.

“I’m so incredibly proud of you. You were spectacular”

We smirk.

We.

Not we.

It’s ok. It really is .

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lyrics from A Case of You - Joni Mitchell (1971)
> 
> '...I remember that time you told me  
> You said, "Love is touching souls"  
> Surely you touched mine  
> 'Cause part of you pours out of me  
> In these lines from time to time
> 
> Oh, you're in my blood like holy wine  
> You taste so bitter and so sweet  
> Oh, I could drink a case of you, darling  
> And still I'd be on my feet  
> I would still be on my feet...'
> 
> snippets also from Friends; I'm gonna Crawl; You Shook Me - Led Zeppelin; Carry Fire - Robert Plant


	3. B side

I feel you before I even see you. Everywhere around me. You have that effect, in every room you walk in. You walk in, it changes the air. It ripples. It finds me, hits me. Not strong, just a soft blow on the back of my neck.

They told me you were there. They whispered in my ear before the show. They didn’t tell me if you wanted me to know. I didn’t really know why you’re here tonight.

I still don’t know.

I’m afraid to turn my head and see your face. With your ideas of constant change and perpetual evolution, always moving, never still, never the same, never look back, all that chuff. What are you going to make of this?

Shit. I’m already apologising in my mind, already explaining myself to you. Explaining why I’m not you.

It’s been bad, I don’t have to tell you. It’s been bad. The band is gone. Old Jimmy isn’t. I wasn’t supposed to make it this far, but I did. And I was withering away. I had nothing. Until I started to feel that I could have this. That I didn’t have to outdo myself and prove myself anymore. The old road show was good enough. It’s what people want. Thank god, they _want_ it.

So yeah, the bow, the laser, shorter solos because kids today don’t have the time. It’s not revolutionary and groundbreaking and it won’t blow anyone’s mind. And you know what, that’s fine. Done that. Done it. Paid my wages, god knows how hard I worked. I’m tired, I’m sick, I was lost and wasting away. I’ve mourned enough. I just want to have some bloody fun.

Might not be good enough for you, but I’ll take it. I’m cashing in. I’m not you.

And I’ve made my apologies, and I know my case is sound, but I’m still afraid to turn and find you looking at me and. I think I’ve just about managed not to disappoint you until now. Just about.

Silence has been falling all around us. It will get awkward in a moment. It will be noticed.

There’s nothing for it. What will be, will be. If the last years haven’t killed me, I should be able to survive disappointing Percy Plant. So I steel myself, and I hold my breath, and I turn around.

There you are.

_There you are._

Drawing the light in the room, a spotlight always on you. Am I the only one who can see it?

Oh, I can breathe. Baby, your eyes. You’re smiling so wide, that wicked grin. Warmth washes me from head to toe. Relief. _You’re smiling_. And your eyes. They’re exactly like. Yes, of course. The boathouse. God, I’ve just seen it, so clear. That wide-eyed boy, just a kid, not a care in the world, heart in your mouth, just under your skin.

You worshipped me. You never tried to play it cool. You worshipped the floor I trod on, and you were _bursting_ with it, and you weren’t afraid to show me, to bathe me in it. I remember, god, a man could live on the look in those eyes alone.

I can see what it does to you when I smile back. Makes me want to weep. Still, baby? After it all?

The glorious yes is pouring out of you unfiltered, the blinding light of you. I plummet on the ratty old chair because I’m not sure my legs will hold me much longer. Too much. Too much. The show, and you, and the rest of it -doesn’t bear mentioning.

People start walking out. I think there’s nudges and whispers. Clever courtiers, aren’t they? anticipating my wishes. My entourage, my retinue. Been without it for so long. I didn’t look for them. They came to me. You don’t need that kind of shite, do you? Hell, you don’t need running water for that matter, or electricity. How do you do it, baby. Well, I don’t know if I need it, but I’m not going to go without it. Does me good, the noise, the bustle.

God, baby, look at you. The international pop star with the dashing smile and the stupid bang-on-trend baggy chinos. Your stupid bloody hair. Why did you have to cut it? New you, what a load of bollocks. You have no bloody right being so fucking gorgeous with that hair.

Shaking my head, I remember you fucking strutting on stage, jeans so tight, driving me out of my mind. King slut. I was your bloody slave then, don’t you know? Did you ever know? Blew my top off, all that teasing.

Fun days. Gone now. So what did you come for? Why are you here? Good wishes, congratulations, a manly pat on the back, your blessing?

Oh, really. That good?

Well. I can’t say I didn’t try. (Depends. Did it work?)

So you did enjoy that then? The charade? The silly play? All the gimmicks? Performing monkey doing his old tricks. Stale, dead, you’re right, you’re bleeding right. And it angers me, and I have to bloody make myself just look ahead and never bloody sideways and god forbid I should look back. Just ahead, where people still want to buy some bleeding tickets to see Jimmy Page play guitar.

And you.

What do you want?

I’m choked. Won’t let you see it.

You always do that. You show up again, and everything… it trembles, it crumbles, I’m never sure that it will not just fall apart. It’s so hard, baby, so bleeding hard. If I can forget, I can make myself do it. But with you here, I can’t…

  
But you're not here tonight as a conquering hero come to show me some grace, are you? Look at you, my wide-eyed boy. I see him in you. You’re reaching with every bit of you. You need this, whatever the hell it is. This, here, you need it. So I still have it, still fucking have it -what you _need_. Knots tight inside me loosen up, painful, like setting up a bone, it flares inside but what it leaves behind is right, as it should be, and it's already healing.

_Come. Come here._

I see that tiny twitch in your smile, now falling into something else.

You kneel at my feet. Fuck. I _feel_ it. It electrifies me. Oh baby, the way you’re looking at me. Almost shy. Definitely humble. Humble, _you_. Before me. I feel it coming from you and seizing me and seeping inside and I’m expanding in all directions, I’m stronger and I shine brighter and I’m me again, I’m myself.

Better than. I'm the man I was. The man you made me. A god sometimes. To them. To you. I lost that. It left me. I never knew how bad I needed it. I thought, the music, the art, that’s what counts. Oh, I’m a fool, and you’re the clever one.

You were always the shining one. I am a mirror. I reflected what you saw, the way you looked at me. And that’s how they saw me. When I was a god.

I feel it now. An echo of it. Because of you, still bloody swooning at my feet like the kid you were, like the last fifteen years never bloody happened. I stroke your hair, sweet kid, remember? The first time I touched you. It was your hair too. I wasn’t sure what I was doing. I didn’t know what I wanted. -But I did. Only teasing, unless you...

I stroke you now and your eyes turn heavy and god, baby, feels good. Feels good. You need me. This bloody ruin, sick and aging. You still see it, in me - maybe I still am then. I could weep now but I won’t. Hell, there’s nothing sad about this. Look at you, bloody gorgeous, dazzling, triumphant, and worshipping at my feet.

What’s that you need, baby?

You lean towards me like you can’t keep away. God, it feels good. If you feel that power, maybe I still have it.

So what do you want then? Even now I’m not certain. You said once, you asked if I needed it in writing.

 _Preferably in blood,_ I said.

Remember? We were shouting. But that made you laugh. Yeah, I could make you laugh. And you, baby. Nobody’s made me laugh harder. Nobody’s made me feel harder. Do you think I can still feel that much, baby?

“I want to see you.”

I whisper it. I don’t trust my own voice. I say your name. For me. And for you, apparently. I can believe I can still do that to you.

I stare at your fingers on the buttons of your shirt and I ignore that sultry gaze as you do because I’m not sure I can bloody handle both at once. I watch you emerge from your costume. It’s you underneath, and that’s what I needed to see. The boy I knew, now a man, and still mine. _Still mine._ Fuck, look at you. Look at you preening and teasing. You don’t need to try, but you always do. You have no mercy. _You have no idea._

_Come. Come here._

I know that face. I know what you want. I know what you’re asking for. I see it so clearly. You’re begging for it with every inch of you. I can bloody smell it. How do you do it, baby. A god on his knees, and still a god. -Because you are precisely where you want to be, and you’re going to get exactly what you want. Because you hold the power, now and always. God, Robert, you never stop amazing me. How much more yourself can you become.

And you're here. You're back. And I can touch you. Because you want me to, just fingertips, just a brush. There is pleasure in the waiting, there is pleasure in being denied. Prolong the yearning, build up the crave, all the more intense when your wish is finally granted. I taught you that - What you don’t know is, I learned that with you too.

What it does to your face. To your eyes. You let me see it all. Laid bare for me, all of you. Oh, I could do this all night. I could do this for the rest of my.

(No. Not that.)

You’re growling, baby? Well, you were always musical. Full of sounds. For me. Up there for all the world to see, and when only I could hear you. God, look at you. No pride, no reserve, no fear, shuddering with want.

Here, your mouth. This is where. Your heart, in here.

You suck my fingers with abandon. It sends fire down my spine. Just that. How you take every little thing I choose to give you. You pierce me with your eyes as you suck my fingers and power runs through me and in me. What do you want, baby? I know what you want. Shall I give it to you? Keep sucking like that and I might just give it to you.

You suck harder when you see I’m undoing my fly. Oh, you’re fucking killing me.

Can I make myself wait? I want to be fully hard when your mouth touches me, baby. When your mouth takes me all you will feel is power. None of the rest. Nothing else. - I’m feeling it now, I feel the power. I almost don’t need to fake it. Almost.

My legs around your body, drawing you towards me. You’re swooning baby, look at you. I feel like a bloody god tonight, fuck. Come here, then. Come to worship? So worship. Your eyes so wide, so wanton. Oh, baby. I kiss your hair because if I kiss your mouth I’ll never stop.

You take me like you’ve been starving. Like you were desperate to taste me. Were you really, baby? Were you? Fuck, you’re killing me. 

You slow down. You look up. What do you need then?

 _Teach me,_ you told me. _Tell me what to do._ If I didn’t bloody die that day, right there and then, I should have known I don’t die easy. Biggest eyes I’ve ever seen. _Teach me. Tell me how._ Bloody hell, Robert.

Alright. Alright then, baby. Whatever you need. Easy, easy. You remember this, don’t you? Easy, then. Easy. Look at me. Keep your eyes on me. That’s how you’ll know. That’s how you know.

Fuck. You remember, don’t you? You remember now. God, you remember. You were always good at this. Generous. Always loved this. As if you could feel it too. Fuck. You always wanted to learn more, try more. You taught my body to myself.

And I remember too. My hand clawing in your scalp, my body tensing. See, baby? That’s how you know. That’s how you know. You’re moaning and digging your fingers in my hips, holding on for dear life. You’re killing me.

You drop your hand between your legs.

“No.”

You stop sharp, obey without a thought, _fuck_. Bite your lip, you’re bloody shaking.

You want this? So do I. I want it _more_. It’s _mine_.

“Say it.”

If there was a quiver in my voice we’ll pretend nobody noticed.

You have no idea the guts it took. Was it worth it?

Robert, damn, come here. If you’re not going to say it, at least… I’ll take it from your mouth, I kiss you and we’ll pretend that’s why you didn’t say it.

You turn soft and pliant resting on top of me, taking my kiss. You take it like holy communion, like a gift from above. Sometimes you’re fierce and demanding and I could never tell if I would be able to keep up with you. Now you’re leaning and begging, and you take - and all that need, I drink it up, and it builds up in me, powers me up. The more you need me. There is nothing I cannot do for you, nothing I can’t make you feel. I am limitless, I am powerful. I can do anything.

Even ask again. Even that.

“Say it.”

This time, you don’t hesitate one moment.

“You’re the only one.”

  
Because I could weep again, I pull you close and take your mouth, take over completely. Plunder and ravage. It’s mine. _You’re mine._ Still mine. God, Robert...

I feel you smiling against my lips. You whisper,

“You’re my only one. The only one. Jimmylove…”

The old name. Makes me laugh. It’s not funny. I’m just. Yes, damn, I’m just so happy.

You grind against me like a cat in heat and my bloody spirit is soaring. And my cock is as hard as it bloody gets, for you.

Your body that I felt becoming itself. Still mine.

God, I’m dizzy, my head’s swimming. I’m drunk. Drunk on you.

You’re speaking. Magnificent, that what you said? “You shook me,” you said. Makes me laugh. What is this, Robert, a bleeding jam session?

The way you looked at me, just because I laughed. Just because of that. Fuck. I love you. I’m glowing with it now. I’m electric. I can do anything. I love you and you’re still mine. You’re here. You came. You need me.

You grab me by the neck laughing and pull me to my feet. Both drunk now, something’s cracked open and all the light is pouring in. You pull me, I follow, I push, will try not to trip with my own clothes, wouldn’t that be a gag. You let your back hit the wall and your mouth hangs open and your eyes are bright and glazed and you’re giving it off like an animal, a beautiful animal with one single thing in its mind, one purpose.

You pull me in, between your legs, splayed. Grind against me. Oh, is that how it’s going to be, then? Is that what you want? You’re panting, your mouth is flushed, pink down your neck, your hair a mess. You look like sex. You smell like sex. Like lust. That what you want, baby? I can give it to you. I can give you anything. Anything you need. I’m all you need. I’m everything.

I grab your arse, squeeze tight, pull you close. Feel me. Is this what you want? I rut against you. You want this?

You’re flustered now, gone shy on me. Are you bloody nervous? Oh baby. I guess it’s been a while. I kiss your face, your eyes, your mouth. It’s alright, baby. You know I’m gentle. I take good care of you, don’t I? Most of the time.

I see what you were fumbling for in your pockets.

I see.

You hold it out to me and I freeze like I’d never seen one before.

Ah, for but a moment. My mind slipped, you see. This is not then. This is our now.

World’s changed, hasn’t it? You plunged into the currents and swam away. And this, tonight, this is not...

Fuck. Alright. Your way. If that’s how you want it. If that’s how it’s got to be.

Don’t bloody look at me like that, don’t… Baby. Kiss me. Forget it. Just kiss me. If that’s how it is then that’s how it is. You’re here. You’re mine. You want this. I can give it to you. I can do anything. I can kiss you and work you and melt away that stiffness off your limbs, the tension knotting inside you. I can take care of you. I can make it good. _Teach me,_ you said. All I could teach you is what you’d shown me.

You cling to me and draw me into places in my head that cradle me and soothe me. I touch you how my hands know you want to be touched. All the ways to unlock you and reveal you. God, baby, you’re so beautiful. How you yield, how you give, how you need.

You want to take my shirt off. For a moment, I think of stopping you. For a moment. I don’t want to see your face when you see me. I won’t see it.

Take it off if you want. Whatever you want. Whatever you need. I just refuse to see it.

I’ll see _this_ instead, when I finally let you out of your chinos and you moan just from that. Because you’re bare now, nothing on you, glorious and brazen and ripe with life and want, and mine. Yes, this face I can bear to see.

Your eyes now, because of how I’m handling you and owning you. Your thigh around my hip, let me. Closer. Want to be mine, then? Well, I’ll show you _mine_.

How you hold on to me, how you bite your lip as I unroll the condom. This what you want, baby?

“Ask me.”

Yes, once again. How you fall apart and yield, you’re ripping me to shreds.

“Touch me, fuck me, please…”

  
Fuck. I press against you. You can feel me.

Just once more.

“Tell me,” I whisper. And I’m the one begging now, and surely you know it.

You whisper what I need to hear. Our vows, our secret.

“You’re the only one. Only ever you.”

I could crumble now and never come together again. I almost wish. Your lust makes me mighty, your love makes me weak. I want to come home, baby. I want to feel you like nobody else ever will.

I take you all at once, no prisoners, no quarter, so I can hear that breath sucked in sharp, so I can feel you arching and tensing as I push into you, almost too quick, almost. But I know you well, don’t I? Just about, not too much. I know you. I remember you. I’ll take care of you. I’ll make it good. I’ll take all my cues from you. I touch, you call back. Our sounds, together, leaning on each other. Give it to me, baby. Come on. Give me…

Look at you, baby. Undone, shameless, so beautiful. You’re impossible, you leave me breathless. I bury myself inside you, make you feel the drag, the push. Make you feel it all. You make _me_ feel it. You groan and moan and call my name in desperate whispers. Say my name, baby, dig your nails in me, show me how good I’m making it for you. Show me how good it is.

I can make it sound better. I can make you sound _more_. I put my hand on you, just as I push in. I stroke you and I fuck you and you show me, you give me everything, no holding back, no filter, no scruple, no shame. You’re pure body right now. Here and now, me inside you.

Calling me, you guide me to that place in you. I’ll never see it, I’ll never know it. I can’t get there, not me. That place of _here_ and _now_ where you’re pure body and pure light. Come on, baby. I want to see you get lost in it, fuse with it, ascend, shine, want you to blind me. I can never get there, I never will, but it’s enough that I can take you there. It’s enough.

You crumble on me, I take your weight. I take your sobs, your heat and your thirst and your need. You take everything I give you.

You take everything I have. Everything I am. You take everything even as you give everything. But there’s always so much more of you, and I…

White, bright, then black. Always so much more of you. So little of me.

You hold me before I fall apart. You hold me up. You won’t let me fall.

I give you what you need. I always know what you need -your arms around me, holding me, holding me together, more or less in one piece. In your arms. You kiss my face, my head, so tender. You shower me with a love so kind, so generous. And I soak it in and let it under my skin. I trust you. I believe you. I believe in me. I can give you what you need.

When I pull away my head is still light. I’m afraid I’ll just bloody faint if I stoop too low too fast. I won’t let you see how bad it is. Not as bad as it’s been, I guess. That’s all you need to know; all you need to see.

God, look at you. You were always stunning in the afterglow. It’s a good job I’ve got the music. Poets could never even get close. I almost, almost did, once or twice.

Pulling ourselves together. Pulling your pants on. And my shirt. I chuckle. Looks better on you anyway.

I think I’m smiling, I’m not sure. You are, but your heart’s not in it. I have no idea what you're feeling right now.

“Come home, eh? With me?”

  
Oh. Don’t, baby. We can’t.

You know what I’m going to say, so you show only very little disappointment when I say it.

Why ask, then.

You never ask me why.

Because you won’t stay, Robert. You'll never stay. And I don’t bounce back like I used to, what can I say. When your eyes start straying, your thoughts, your lust.

It’s not other people. I know it’s not. You turn from me seeking a new song, a new thrill. In time you just. Have to leave. Leave me in the fucking summertime. Ramble on.

And I can’t even hold it against you baby. I won’t. It’s what makes you who you are. It’s why I feel the way I feel. It's why I'll always take you back, if it fucking kills me.

You’re beautiful like that, taking my face in, as if you’re committing it to memory. Already saying goodbye. Almost as good as gone. 

Dammit. Kiss me. Before you leave. So I can... -nah. It doesn’t stay, does it? It vanishes. I forget how it feels, I can’t conjure it up again to keep me warm. I know I will not be able to remember it until you remind me again.

So fucking kiss me Robert. Give it to me. It’s _mine_.

You’ll walk away now, god knows when I’ll see you again. You don’t need to see what’s going on underneath. You must not see what it will do to me. It’s bad enough that you know, and you’re still going to leave. -Do I hide because of you or because of me? I don’t know who I’m trying to spare.

“Keep the shirt,” I say. And I smirk and all. I’ll even wink if I have to.

“I’m so incredibly proud of you. You were spectacular.”

And you mean that. Condescending nob. I’m proud of you too. What a pair.

What pair.

I smile, and I guess there’s not much joy there, but love comes to my eyes and I let it. All of it, as much as I can bear.

I take one last look at you. I can’t bloody believe I’m just going to stand here and watch you leave, once more.

But I know what you need. I always know what you need.

I can give it to you. I can do anything.

So I’ll keep smiling.


End file.
